The Forgotten Fairy Tales
by ElaineAbbene
Summary: When Narcissa finds Rose crying, she shares a book, hoping to convince her that true love is real, fairy tales can come true, and perhaps things are not always as they seem. The Grimm brothers might not have been the best magical students, but their ability to turn wizard history into fairy stories for muggles made them wealthy. The truth behind the tales as told by Cissa Malfoy.
1. Snow White

It was late, the night well shrouded in darkness, but Narcissa Malfoy didn't mind. The night was her friend, and the stars her companions. She had always felt the safest with their brightness blinking down on her from the glass domed ceiling above her. It was as if her family was looking down on her. Besides, the night brought comfort and relief from the attention she often received in the light of day. Her entire life she had loved being able to secret herself away in the night, away from prying eyes. When she was younger, the eyes sought her out of desire to look upon her beauty, but later she was viewed with the curiosity that comes with scandal and fear. As of late the looks had abated, but they still occurred. She was after all Narcissa Malfoy. However, at the moment, it was dark, and no prying eyes were around to bother her as she sat deep within the comforting stacks and shelves that made up the Malfoy family library, her favorite room in the manor where she had lived for the past sixty years.

She was contemplating calling her personal house elf to bring her some tea, but it was late, and Tuffy was getting on in years and probably abed. It would be better to go without and avoid the possibility of waking the elf. Setting her book down, she had resolved to get the tea herself, when she heard the door of the library slam followed by the sound of feet rapidly moving across the library floor. Astoria and Draco were traveling, and the footsteps were too light and quick to be her aged husband or her grandson. With all the dignified grace of her rigid upbringing, she slowly sought out the intruder on her late night reading session.

It wasn't hard to find her, because even after the sound of footsteps stopped, the sobs did not. In one of the deepest corners of the large library, Narcissa finally found her, wearing a pale blue dressing gown, her feet bare, crying in what she would be horrified to know was Lucius's favorite reading nook, deep in the wizarding history section. Narcissa was partial to the nook too, but not as fond as she was of the one in the herbology section she had just abandoned. She slowly lowered herself onto the divan where the sobbing figure was sprawled, careful not to startle her before reaching down and brushing her hand over the mass of curly hair, smoothing it a bit thoughtfully.

"Grandmother!" exclaimed the young woman sitting up as soon as her tears had slowed enough to notice the woman who was straightening her hair. "I'm… I'm dreadfully sorry… I didn't… I…"

"It's quite alright darling, now what has happened that you're in the library at two in the morning crying all over Lucius's favorite sofa?"

"I…. Nothing…"

"I can see you're rather reluctant to tell me, but let me assure you I have no disillusions about my grandson. I'm sure it was him, so let's hear it," said Narcissa matter of factly before she called for a younger house elf and asked for some tea. "What's that husband of yours done now, Rose?"

"I'm just so…. He…" Rose hiccupped, her eyes still watering. "He's been traveling so much for the company, and tonight, I thought I'd surprise him. I arranged for two handfuls of international floo powder between the two fire places for tonight. I showed up in New York by flooing into his suite at the hotel. He was on the veranda with _her!"_

"WHAT!?" exclaimed Narcissa, momentarily losing her legendary composure. "Who?!"

"I don't know! I headed right back through the floo. I…" Rose broke out in fresh sobs, and Narcissa felt she could do nothing but quietly comfort her sweet, normally so happy grand-daughter-in-law. "I just… I… I should have known that fairy tales didn't exists! I am much more practical than that! I'm Hermione Weasley's daughter for Merlin's sake!"

"Now, let's not jump to conclusions, there may be a perfectly reasonable explanation for why my grandson had a woman in his hotel suite that wasn't his darling wife. However, who told you fairy tales were impractical?"

"No one, but they are stories that trick us into thinking that love is real, goodness conquers evil, and prince charming does exist! Those stupid stories are a load of Hippogriff SHIT!"

"Now, I don't know about that. In my experience, love is real, goodness always has managed to conquer evil, and prince charming…. The wizengamot is still out on that one. But one thing I'm sure of is that fairy tales are not just stupid stories," replied Narcissa calmly summoning a nearby book.

"Of course they're stories! Made up by idealists and told to little girls who will one day have their hopes and dreams shattered!"

"Hear me out now, most stories have some basis in fact. The stories of your mother and her adventures in the second war will eventual be the thing of fairy tales. In fact, I happen to know that nearly every fairy tale is a true story. Wizarding history would have been much more interesting if _I_ was teaching it instead of Binns. I'm of the opinion he had an unhealthy fixation with Goblins."

The prospect of learning something new and the shock that fairy tales were based on fact seemed to perk Rose up a bit. She sat a little straighter and watched as Narcissa opened the book she had summoned. "Really? You mean they're true stories?!"

"Well, mostly. I'm fairly sure most of them were modified to be muggle appropriate by the Grimm Brothers, the two wizards who made a mint publishing them for the muggle public. However, this being the fourth largest library in all of Britain, I have the wizarding version of several of the tales. The historical accounts. Let's see, now which would you like to hear first?"

"Snow White," said Rose.

"Ah, one of the first stories, and also one of my ancestors!...

* * *

Chione White was born in Appleby, England in 1373. Her mother and father were wealthy pureblood nobility who had long hoped for a child. Upon learning of her pregnancy, Dionne White went to a seer, for she had been having terrifying dreams. The seer confirmed her worst fear that she would in fact not survive the birth of her child, a girl baby who would have her father's raven hair, her mother's clear gray eyes, lips as red as the blood her mother would shed giving birth to her, and skin as white the snow falling the day she was born. The seer predicted that she would be the fairest woman in all the isles and go on to produce a long line of powerful witches and wizards to color history. Greatly afraid for her life, but reassured that her daughter would live, Dionne returned home to her husband.

As she grew rounder and rounder with child, she could feel the strength leaving her, and knew there was something wrong with the pregnancy. However, she was reassured by the seer that her child was healthy. She came more to terms with what the old seer had told her, planning to accept death as an old friend as long as she could see her healthy child one time. It was nearly midwinter, when she saw the first snowflakes landing on the grass outside the manor. She knew her time had come, and gently called for the preparations to begin to welcome her child into the world.

The labor was indeed a hard one, and Lady White informed her husband that in the case she were to die, to name the child Chione, after the goddess of snow, for the beauty of the snow falling outside her window was one of the only things that kept her sane through the pain of her labor. Finally, the daughter was born, and Lady Dionne's last wish was fulfilled as she managed to hold her daughter in the minutes before her death.

By the time Chione reached eleven, she had grown into the beautiful daughter the seer had predicted. Her father had raised her well in accordance with customs and traditions, and she was good natured and loved by all she met. Upon her acceptance into Hogwarts, none were surprised when she was sorted into Hufflepuff, and her father was very proud but sad to see his daughter off to school.

Once in school, Chione proved to be a very formidable witch, but also a very beautiful one with the kindest of hearts. She was named prefect for three years, and earned OWLs and NEWTs in potions, charms, transfiguration, herbology, and astronomy. She was especially dedicated to experimental potion theory.

However, in this time, Chione's father became lonely, and eventually remarried during her sixth year, increasing the White family wealth by two-fold. His second wife, Regina Neckham White, was a part veela who came from the infamous Neckham family who was known for enchanting and producing the first enchanted mirrors in the 1100's. Regina was in fact in possession of a particular mirror which had been enchanted by her great grandmother and was known for being connected to every mirror in existence, essentially the mother of all enchanted mirrors. In this way, Regina could view the reflection of any mirror upon request.

A very vain woman, perhaps because of her veela nature, Regina had an unhealthy obsession with being the most beautiful woman in Britain. After Chione's graduation from Hogwarts in 1390, the young witch returned home to live with her father and stepmother whom she had met briefly on holidays. The veela became instantly jealous of the attention her new husband lavished upon his only daughter. Her primary consolation was that she considered Chione's dark beauty inferior to her own veela looks. However, she took a smaller pleasure in giving clothes to all seven of the White family house elves and forcing Chione to clean the family mannor.

Chione later claimed she was not unhappy living as a servant in her father's home. She had excellent training in Magical cooking from Hogwarts where she received an excellent grade in the subject she took until fourth year, and had no problem with cleaning charms. She spent her free time experimenting in potions. Eventually she developed a clear potion that she suspected would be good for cleaning clear and shiny surfaces including mirrors. We now know of this potion as veritaserum which Chione received the patent for in 1394, but her original intent for the potion was as a cleaning solution which she inadvertently used liberally on her stepmother's prized mirror.

Therefore, the very next morning when Regina White asked the mirror who was the fairest of them all, the mirror could not lie as it had previously. As the seer had predicted, Chione White was the fairest in the land. In a veela rage, it was all she could do to refrain from killing her stepdaughter herself. Using a compulsion spell, that is particular to veela magic, Regina forced the young stablemaster who cared for the family hippogriffs and horses to take Chione into the forest and kill her. However, the stablemaster was of strong will and the fact that Regina was only part veela weakened her magical hold on the young man. Once in the forest, he was able to tell Chione of her stepmother's plan to have her killed.

Chione fled, deep into the forest surrounding Appleby where her stepmother's enchanted mirror could not find her, for Chione knew her stepmother enjoyed spying on others via the magical window. She had been in the forest for two days with nothing but her wand and she knew the full moon was approaching. Fearing that much longer in the wilderness would leave her in danger of encountering a werewolf, she was relieved to stumble upon a small, almost miniature cottage.

Carefully shielding her face from any mirrors with her cloak, Chione entered to cottage to find it void of mirrors, but very much inhabited by filth. The house was a disaster of epic proportions, everything falling into disrepair and dirt. Presuming the small place abandoned, the young witch cleaned the place up in order to take shelter there that evening. By the time she had finished, she was exhausted from her forest journey and the work. When she awoke, she found herself surrounded by seven house elves she was quite familiar with since childhood.

Upon reunion with their mistress, the elves, who had fallen into drunkenness since their dismissal from the White household, were rejoiced to see their mistress well, for they had heard the rumor of her death which had been propagated by Regina already. Thus began a quiet existence in Appleby forest for Chione White and her seven elves. She continued to experiment with her potions, eventually discovering the true nature of veritaserum after accidentally allowing some to splash into her drink, but she strangely found her house elves to be unaffected by the potion.

It was nearly a year before anyone stumbled upon the happy dwelling. As it were, a young wizard, only just old enough not to have known Chione at Hogwarts, was hunting for Golden Snidgets to capture. Stumbling upon the beautiful witch toiling over a hot outdoor cauldron, he couldn't help but be infatuated. Starved for human companionship, Chione came to enjoy his visits, but never revealed her identity to him, fearful that somehow the information would get back to her stepmother that she had not perished.

The young man often brought gifts for his forest friend. He had finally resolved to marry her despite his suspicion that she was not a pureblooded witch as he would prefer, when he brought the fateful gift of a mirror. She enthusiastically opened the gift but was startled into dropping it, causing it to shatter when she saw her reflection. The mirror shards mocked her with her multiplied reflection, showing her shock and fear. She vanished the pieces, but it was too late.

Until now, Lady White had been content as the most beautiful in the land, having killed several more women who her mirror begrudgingly admitted were fairer than she. It was thus a surprise when her mirror announced one morning, nearly a year and a half after Chione's disappearance that the witch had been spotted in a mirror, and was thus the most beautiful of all.

Regina was enraged, and immediately set about correcting her past mistakes, ensuring the stablemaster's disappearance. She also seems to have decided to take matters into her own hands, perhaps because Chione was already presumed dead, she could not be implicated.

Lady White brewed a potion to carry out her evil deed. Disguising herself to look like the ugliest Hag in a nearby villiage, using magic to disguise herself, Regina made her way into the forest where she knew Chione to live. It was there that she encountered the beautiful girl, needing all her restraint from revealing her identity and killing her outright.

An apple freely given from the passing woman was a treat Chione could not resist, reminding her dearly of her home where orchards grew many apples, giving Appleby its name. No sooner had the apple, laced with Draught of Living Death touched the young girls tongue before she collapsed in deathlike sleep. Regina happily made her way home before the elves who spent the days gathering potions ingredients and building furniture to sell for food in towns made their way back to the cottage where in an odd reversal of roles, Chione cooked and cleaned for them.

Upon discovery of their mistress's body, the elves were overcome with sadness, and out of a final act of gratitude for her care and restoration of their self worth, they built her a glass coffin, for her body was as beautiful in death as it was in life. Weeks passed, and although their mistress was dead, all that showed of her passing was a slightness that seemed to come over her once healthy body. For that was Regina's plan, to have her waste away slowly in sleep as the potion did its evil work.

When Chione's young wizard returned, he was bursting with joy as he had finally found the perfect ring to give to his love. Planning to propose after finally gaining permission from his family, not without much struggle, to marry whomever he liked, he arrived to find the elves still mourning for their mistress. Seeing her body, still so well preserved, the wizard was suspicious, but overcome with grief for his love. Insisting he wanted to leave the ring with her as no other witch would be fit to wear it, he removed the glass lid of the casket to place it on her finger. However, as the lid was lifted, her body was jarred, and a bite of apple fell out of the witch's mouth, removing the contact her body had with the potion.

Weakened by her time asleep, Chione could barely speak. Overcome with joy, but realizing the implications of what had happened, the elves nursed their mistress back to health under the watch of her new fiancé. Knowing she could never be safe, even deep in the forest, Chione finally agreed to leave with Hyperion Black whom she married quickly and quietly before they returned to his family home near Godric's Hallow, England. Careful to avoid all mirrors, Chione went about obtaining a patent for her truth eliciting potion which she dubbed veritaserum.

Upon patent, its first use was in the summons of Lady Regina White before the Wizengamot in 1394. Lady White appeared before the court, not knowing of what she was accused, and after having a cup of tea proceeded to confess to the killings of thirty seven muggles, two witches, and the attempted murder of her stepdaughter on grounds that they were more beautiful than she. Unfortunately, as veritaserum in high doses can be lethal, she succumbed to death shortly after her interrogation and before she could be sentenced. It is unknown whether or not Chione Black knew of the lethal side effects from the potion, or if dosing safety had been established yet.

In any case, with her stepmother deceased, Chione went on to live a very public life with her husband Hyperion Black who served as a member of the Wizengamot while she continued to experiment with potions, developing several lesser known and outdated healing potions while raising seven children, all of which attended Hogwarts. To this day, the effects of washing a mirror with veritaserum can be seen in the continued compulsory honesty of Regina White's enchanted mirror which is kept on display in White Manor. It remains the most honest mirror in the land although its link to other mirrors remains largely lost due to the destruction of many of these older mirrors. It is also the most perpetually clean, as veritaserum is the most potent mirror cleaning and preservative known to wizarding kind. Its use is ill advised.

 **Originally I had mapped out a Rose-Scorpius fanfic and this was the sequel... let's be real... Probably never going to have time to write the story of how they got together. But I have a couple of these fairy tales written, and they are kind of fun. I only have a few of these, but I hate not publishing them. Let me know if you like them and I'm open to suggestions for future tales. Each is pretty much stand alone, but I tried to make up some wizarding history/ make up some interesting things about the wizarding world... which I think of things a lot. Up next is Beauty and the beast. Thanks, E!**


	2. Beauty and the Beast

As Narcissa finished reading, she looked up to see her granddaughter in law looking quite thoughtful. "So, still just a bunch of stories? If you like, I can provide documented proof of their existence and the court records."

"No, but maybe perhaps. Are you sure that his name was Hyperion?"asked Rose looking annoyed at the mere sound of the name.

"Quite, I was forced to memorize my family tree back to the ninth century as a child. His name was Hyperion, one of the easier to say if you ask me," answered Narcissa.

"And they really loved each other?" asked Rose.

"I'm sure if they didn't, then veritaserum could have proved they didn't," laughed Narcissa. "Yes, I really think they did. He did after all plan to marry her despite not knowing her pureblooded lineage as a White. A White and a Black. I suppose that's a rather nice thought," pondered the grandmother.

"I supposed they might have truly loved each other. They did have seven children, which is a bit much for anyone."

"Your grandmother is quite crazy if you ask me," laughed Narcissa.

"I'm fairly sure that's where my Dad got it," laughed Rose fondly reflecting on her father's nature, which despite anything he did, she still loved him.

"Feeling a bit better?" asked Narcissa, knowing the tears had dried as she read aloud.

"Very much so, and I'm sure you're tired, I hate to have kept you up," replied Rose.

"I'm not tired at all, I do tend to sleep in quite a bit on certain days, and this seems to be an evening I'm loathe to go to sleep. I think I'll sleep the day away tomorrow and stay up until the sun rises. It's never too late to start a good book, and this one I quite like."

"Perhaps you might not mind reading aloud again? I quite enjoyed the last, and I'm not quite ready to face my bed either," replied Rose thinking of the cold empty bed deep in her and Scorpius' part of the manor.

"Which would you like to hear next?" asked Narcissa with a grin.

"I've always been rather partial to Beauty and the Beast."

"Ah, here we are, one of my favorites too!

* * *

Arabelle Merchant was the pureblooded daughter of French shipping mogul and inventor Jacques Merchant and his English wife Merida McGowan. The youngest of three daughters, she grew up along the Scottish coast. Her sisters attended Bauxabatons, but due to her mother's failing health, and desire to keep her youngest close to home, the young witch went to Hogwarts. Attending Hogwarts between 1511 and 1518 as a Gryffindor student, she was known for her passion for herbology and charms. After her mother's death in 1517, her father's prominent business slowly began to fail due to his refusal to modernize his fleets. Upon its failure in 1518, the family moved from the coastal city Montrose, Scotland to the remote highlands where Jacques spent his time inventing. He is best known for his invention of omnioculars which restored the family's wealth in 1527. The magical glasses were originally intended for use a sea, but his oldest daughter marketed them toward quidditch with the hopes of getting rich, which worked well for the family.

Accounts by neighbors and friends in the small village claim that the years 1518 and 1519 were difficult ones for the small family. The older daughters, one of which suffered a mental collapse along with that of their fortune when her fiancé ended their engagement, never felt at home in the poor village. A memoir by Jacques claims that Belle held the family together in this time of great need with her resourcefulness, prudence, forbearance, congeniality and courage. Neighbors would also agree to this as without the garden that the youngest Merchant daughter nurtured, it is likely the family would have starved.

In spring of 1520, an owl reached the family that a ship of the family's fleet had been found after being suspected lost at sea. The elder daughters Alaira and Almina requested dresses and jewels as returning gifts from their father, hoping the displays of wealth could turn the eye of a young rich suitor. Much more practical and fearing that the ship did not hold the wealth her sister's seemed to think it promised, Arabelle requested a rose cutting, knowing the value of the flower in potions and perfumes, but also secretly hoping to add its beauty to her gardens.

The ship did hold the promised wealth, but by the time Jacques arrived, it was too late and the majority of the profits had been seized by creditors and former business partners. It was late fall by the time that Jacques journeyed back to the highlands, early enough for a snowstorm. Caught in a blizzard, he would have frozen to death if he hadn't used a clever device he had invented to point him to the nearest wizarding residence. The patent for the compagic was highly profitable after he worked out the bugs in 1530. Arriving at a large castle, Jacques hoped to introduce himself to the resident, but after spending the night in the front parlor, he wrote a quick thank you on a spare piece of parchment and headed out, unwilling to borrow even a handful of floo powder to get home quicker as he could ill afford to repay his host. However, on the way off the property, he couldn't help but notice a hedge of roses blooming despite the early snow that could have killed the beautiful plants. Hoping to make his youngest, sweetest daughter happy, he took a cutting.

"What do you think you are doing!?" came a voice behind him. Turning, Jacques was surprised to find a beast, standing upright and wearing a set of robes, holding a wand, but clearly the most inhumane looking creature he had ever seen.

"My daughter loves plants, and it was the one thing she asked I bring home for her. Her sisters asked for jewels and dresses, but I can ill afford them. This… I thought I could give her… she is the sweetest of my daughters and would be the most grateful for the small bloom."

"I let you stay last night, but I cannot abide you stealing my roses," claimed the beast, clearly angry and looking ready to devour the man.

"I meant no harm!" protested Jacques. "I would pay you if I could!"

"Money means little to me, but… perhaps…"

"Anything! I swear upon my word as a wizard! Name your price!" exclaimed the terrified Jacques.

"Done, I shall have your daughter to come live with me here," said the beast with an inhumane smirk.

"No!" protested Jacques. "Not Belle!"

"Any of your daughters will do, but unless one of them agrees to come here within the next fortnight, you shall perish for violation of a wizard's oath!"

Miserably, Jacques returned home, and sure enough, Belle loved her roses, while her sisters scoffed at them and bemoaned that there were not jewels or dresses. It was not until the night before the due date that Jacques was forced to reveal the nature of the deal he had made with the beast in exchange for the roses which Belle had happily planted. A parcel of floo powder arrived by owl, and Belle was lucky enough to intercept it from her father.

"What is this? Floo Powder!?"

"That must be worth a fortune!" exclaimed Alaira, knowing that floo powder was practically worth its weight in gold.

"But why is someone sending you floo powder, papa?" asked Belle. And the story came tumbling out. However, Jacques was firm that he would rather die than have one of his daughters go to live with that beast.

"No papa! You can't die," protested Almina. "It's Belle's fault! She should go, for it is she who asked for the disastrous roses!"

"No! I will not have any of you three leave me. I plan to die here at home tomorrow night surrounded by my three loving daughters who mean the world to me."

"That's good and well for you papa, but I think not," answered Belle defiantly. "I love you all, and I would do anything to protect this family," she said courageously before turning to throw the floo powder in the lit fireplace behind her. "Ross Manor!" she said reading out the only words of the letter.

Arriving, Belle immediately regretted her decision to leave home without anything but the clothes on her back and her wand. A change of clothes and a few possessions might have been useful.

"You came," was the surprised comment from the dark corner upon her arrival.

"Well of course, I couldn't very well let my father die!" Belle spat irritably.

"I would have released him from his vow," came the gruff voice.

"A likely story, now I'm stuck here with nothing but my wand! I could have at least packed my Hogwarts trunk," she said, stalking in front of the fire.

"Ah, so you went to Hogwarts? Your father seemed French so I expected a Bauxabatons graduate. May I implore as to which house?"

"My sisters went off to France, but my mum got her way with me. I was in Gryffindor."

The shadow scoffed. "That explains things, rushing off into the unknown with nothing but your wand. Sounds like a Gryffindor."

"Making death threats on poor old innocent men and entrapping innocent young maidens in your manor. You must be a slytherin!"

"I like your spirit. But, as I said, I would have released him from the vow, and he was hardly innocent."

"Hmph! So where's the dungeon?"

"Why would you want to go there?"

"I'd like to sleep, so wherever you're planning to keep me…"

"A house elf will show you to your room, I'd hardly keep you in a dungeon. Can't stand the places!"

"You're sure you're a Slytherin?"

"I never said I was."

The next morning, Belle awoke to find herself in a room she barely remembered being shown to by a small house elf. There was a tray with breakfast and a selection of beautiful gowns and robes laid out for her selection, each with a set of matching jewels. After she had eaten, she ventured out of her room cautiously.

"I wondered when you would emerge," came the voice from the shadows. "I've been waiting a while.

"Yes, well I was quite tired last night. Why am I here?"

"I'm very lonely. My only companions these past five years since my mother's passing have been house elves. I had hoped…. It was foolish, you should go home."

"I think I rather like it here, yes, I think… without my sisters' nagging, I may be able to get something done for once. Besides, by now the oath is binding. It has been a fortnight since the morning you encountered my father. I think I shall have to stay now."

"I could release you!"

"But you don't want to and therefore the magic might not work. I took magical theory. So I shall stay as long as you do require me and will not make things difficult for you. You clearly need me more than my sisters. My father can learn to live without me."

"It's surprising you weren't a hufflepuff," came the disgruntled reply.

"It was considered. But I think I was in the right house," she said. "I haven't even seen your face, yet I agree to stay. My father said it was truly terrifying."

"But I am," said the shadow stepping into the light with a wolfish grin. It took everything for the Gryffindor to stand her ground and look upon the disfigured creature in front of her.

"What…" began Belle before changing her mind. "What do you say we go for a stroll in the gardens. It's one of the last nice weeks of the year before the Highland chill truly sets in for good. And my father said you have beautiful gardens."

"My mother loved her plants," said the beast, taking a few steps allowing her to follow him.

It did not take long for the friendship between the young girl and the beast to grow, for he truly was a kindhearted soul lonely for companionship. Belle soon came to enjoy spending what would normally be a cold winter inside the beautiful greenhouse that he claimed had been his mother's pride and joy. Her beast would bring along books and often served as a quiet companion during the day before they would dine together in the evening and retire to the library.

It was on one such day that her trek between the greenhouse and the dining room found her lost due to her musings on the proper care of mandrakes. She found herself lost in a long gallery of portraits, most containing auburn haired men and women with green eyes, many wearing a green tartan that she recognized as the plaid that her companion often wore.

"What are you doing here?" came the beast's low growl, startling her as she paused to observe the portrait of a young man wearing a headboy badge on his Hogwarts robes embellished with blue and bronze accents.

"I… I was just making my way to dinner, no need to be rude!" she replied, taking a last glance at the handsome young man with laughing dark green eyes and auburn hair.

"Clearly we need to make you a map," he answered, offering his arm.

It wasn't until nearly spring when she had been there for more than six months when she finally mustered up the courage to ask the beast his history, as he was rather close mouthed about his past. They were in the library and he was furiously taking notes over a potions book, something he did with great difficulty due to his unwieldy hands.

"If I didn't know better, I would say you were a Ravenclaw back in the day," she said after observing him try to take down as much as possible onto his parchment.

"I was," he said looking up rather startled.

"But… I thought you said…"

"You said… I simply chose not to correct you…"

"Not that it matters I guess…" she replied. "I… I've been meaning to ask… you can't have always been…"

"Been what? Such a terrible note taker?" he said looking with disgust at his handwriting.

"No, a beast…"

"Ah… yes… that would be true," he said with some finality, but she pried further.

"How did you come to be the way you are?"

"My ambition exceeded my knowledge…"

"How very slytherin-like of you!"

"It was considered, but I think I was in the right house," answered the beast with what she had come to recognize as his smile.

"Do… what happened?"

"I have developed the most wonderful of potions, but unfortunately, I have also discovered its greatest flaw."

"What do you mean? That this is side effects from a potion experiment gone horribly wrong!" exclaimed Belle.

"Precisely, I have spent the past six years as this horrible creature because I failed to consider some essential elements to the potion I had developed."

"Tell me about this potion."

"I've decided to call it Polyjuice potion, after my mother who was Polly, which can also mean great sorrow. This potion has brought me great sorrow. My potion can also allow a person to take on multiple appearances, hence Poly."

"What do you mean?"

"With my potion, and the hair of whoever you choose, you can become them. By simply drinking the potion with the addition of a person's hair, it is possible to take on an entire new appearance. The possibilities are endless, although I think the best use would be for undercover work by the law!"

"What went wrong?"

"It's not meant for animal transformations, and I was clearly too ambitious."

"WHAT!? Oh, goodness! But surely, there's a potion that can reverse…"

"Not that I've been able to develop this far."

"Well then, two minds are better than one. I'll help you!"

"You aren't serious!"

"Of course I am, and since I have no desire to look at that ugly visage for the rest of my days, we had better succeed," replied Belle happily.

"I'm not sure much can be done, but I shall ever thank you for trying, Belle," replied the beast.

"You're welcome, Bea…. It seems rather silly to call you Beast. What is your real name?"

"Lord Bardolph Ross, at your service Miss Merchant," he said rising.

"You were headboy my first year! I… That was your portrait!"

"You've caught me, but I must retire, for I'm rather tired from this lovely conversation. You can laugh at my folly when I've departed," he answered sounding irritated.

"But, Be-ardolph!" she said reaching for him. "How can we make progress if we do not start tonight! I'll take notes, you dictate. I think your research will go faster this way."

Together, the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw pair eventually did develop a cure for misuse of polyjuice potion with animal hair. It took over a year to complete, but in 1522, both Polyjuice potion and it's antidote for incorrect cross species use which takes nearly a week to work were patented. The antidote is referred to as Roselle Reformation potion and one of the key ingredients is rose hips. Lord Bardolph Ross and Arabelle Merchant were married in Spring 1922, shortly before the potion was first demonstrated at the ministry of magic. Her father and sisters were in attendance, although the innovation of omnioculars had not yet made them rich. Lord and Lady Ross went on to have eight children, and the Ross Rose Gardens and Ross Manor are still considered among the most beautiful Gardens in England. Notable descendants include Minerva Ross and Minerva McGonagall.

 **Some of the upcoming fairy tales are a little more obscure... we will see if you know the next one... Most probably won't! Any guesses for obscure tales? Thanks again for reading and reviewing!**

 **E.A.**


	3. Lord Broomhead

"Merlin, my mum would love these!" exclaimed Rose as Narcissa finished the tale. "I wonder if she knows the history of polyjuice potion? After all, she accidentally made herself a cat her second year!"

"I am not sure. That story does seem rather relevant for Hermione. You should share it with her. Shall we do another?"

"Yes please! Surprise me," answered Rose.

* * *

Troilus Prince had a daughter who was beautiful beyond all measure. She was pureblooded and intelligent, but so proud and haughty that no suitor was good enough for her. She wished to graduate Hogwarts before marrying, and so her father, who doted on her every whim allowed her to graduate in a time where many a young witch was forced into marriage prior to finishing her schooling. She was head girl after two years as a Ravenclaw Prefect. Troilus indulged his daughter, and she sent each suitor away, one after the other and ridiculed them as well.

After her graduation, Lord Prince wished his daughter marry soon and marry well, for he feared he wouldn't live to see his grandchildren, Bronwyn being his only child. He announced a great feast and invited from far and near, all the young pureblooded wizards likely to marry. They were all ordered into a row according to their rank and standing in society, first the titled lords, then the younger sons, followed by the wealthiest families, and then the lesser families of poor yet noble bloodlines.

Bronwyn was led through the ranks, but to every one she had some objection. One, a Bullstrode, was too fat, another too tall, a third too short, and a fourth, Malfoy, too pale, a Wealsey too red, and so forth down the line. So she had something against every one, but she made herself especially merry over a good wizard who stood quite high up in the row, who had been head boy a few years ahead of her and whom she had known at Hogwarts. He had out-dueled her in a dueling club tournament and she had never forgotten the Hufflepuff who beat the Ravenclaw, for they had been friendly, if not friends prior to the incident when her pride was forever wounded.

"Well," she cried and laughed, "He has broomhead!" And indeed, his reddish brown hair stuck out at all angles, for he had ridden a hippogriff to arrive on time. From that time on, he was known as Broomhead Smethwyck.

But Lord Prince, when he saw that his daughter did nothing but mock the people and despised all the suiters who were gathered, was very angry and swore that she should have for her husband the very next man that came to his doors.

A few days later, a muggle fiddler came and sang beneath the windows, trying to earn a small alms. When Troilus heard him, he said, "Let him come up." So the muggle came in, in his dirty ragged clothes and sang before the witches and wizards in the hall, and when he had ended, he asked for a trifling gift. Lord Prince said, "Your song has pleased me so well, that I will give you my daughter here to wife."

Bronwyn shuddered, but her father said, "I have taken a wizard's oath to give you to the very next man to enter our gates and I will keep it." All she could say was that she would fufill the oath for her father's life, and the priest was brought, and she had to let herself be wedded to the muggle on the spot. When that was done, her father said, "Now it is not proper for you, a muggle's wife, to stay any longer in my fortress, you must go away with your husband."

The muggle man led her out by the hand, and she was obliged to walk away on foot with him, carrying only her wand and a small parcel of clothing given to her by a house elf on her way out. She looked longingly at the winged horses her family kept in their stables, and longed for even an uncomfortable broom to ride as they walked further and further from her childhood home. Travel was uncomfortable, and she was obliged to hide her magical abilities from her husband, so it was also very difficult.

When they came to a large forest, she asked, "To whom does this large forest belong?"

"It belongs to Lord Smethwyck, if you had taken him, it would have been yours."

"Ah, unhappy girl that I am, if I had but taken Elwold Smethwyck!" she moaned.

Afterwards, they came to a meadow, teeming with magical blooms of all kinds, a potion maker's dream. "To whom does this beautiful meadow belong?"

"It belongs to Lord Smethwyck, if you had married him, it would have been yours." Taunted her new husband, who had taken great pleasure upon hearing of her rejected suitors at their wedding and had been gloating about his fortunate marriage since.

"Ah, unhappy girl that I am, if I had only married Elwold Smethwyck!" And she truly thought it would have been smarter of a Ravenclaw to have married the man.

When they came to a large castle overlooking a village, she asked again. "To whom does this fine castle and village belong?"

"It belongs to Lord Smethwyck, and if you had accepted him, it would have been yours."

"Ah, unhappy girl that I am, if I had but accepted Elwold Smethwyck!"

"It does not please me," said the muggle, "to hear you always wishing for another husband. Am I not good enough for you?" And Bronwyn sighed and wished she had listened to her father and married a wizard, and not this muggle who taunted her on a regular basis.

At last they came to a very little hut, and she said, "Oh goodness, what a small house, to whom does this miserable mean hovel belong?"

The fiddler answered, "This is my house and yours where we shall live together."

Bronwyn had to stoop in order to go in at the low door. "Where are the house elves, er… servants?"

"What servants?" answered her muggle husband. "You must yourself do what you wish to have done. Make a fire at once and set the water to cook my supper. I am quite tired."But Bronwyn knew nothing about lighting fires without her wand or cooking. The muggle man had to lend a hand himself to get anything done, and when they had finished their scanty meal, they went to bed. However, he forced her to get up quite early in the morning in order to look after the house and the small garden from which all their food came.

For a while they lived in this way as well as might be, but soon winter came upon them and they came to the end of all their provisions she had painstakingly grown in their garden through the end of summer. Then her husband, Elias, for she called him by his name now, said, "Wife, we cannot go on any longer eating and drinking here and earning nothing. You weave baskets." He went out, cut some willows, and brought them home before going out to try and earn some money with his fiddle. Wiping the tears of frustration from her eyes, she began to weave, but the tough willows wounded her delicate hands and she wished for her pairs of dragonhide gloves she had left at her father's castle for surely they would protect her hands. She was cold and hungry and for a few days alone, which made her work a little less difficult although she knew no spell which would weave baskets of the willows.

Eventually her husband returned. "I see this will not do, you had better spin, perhaps you can do that better." She sat down and tried to spin, but the damage from the willows led the thread to be stained with blood and ruined. "See," said Elias. "You are fit for no sort of work. I have made a bad bargain with you. Now we will try and make a business with pots and earthenware. You must sit in the market-place and sell the ware," he ordered revealing the cart load of pots he had received for a particularly lucrative trip with his fiddle.

"Alas," thought Bronwyn. "If any witch or wizard were to come to the market and see me sitting there selling, how I wish I might die of embarrassment."

But it was of no use, and she trudged to market the next day to try and make some money for food. And at first she was very successful, for she enchanted the pots so that they not break or become too dirty or contaminate what they contained. And people were glad to buy her wares because she was beautiful and sincere, and so they paid her what she asked. Many even gave her money and left the pots as well, so they lived the rest of the winter on what she had earned as long as it lasted. But then her husband purchased more, and the very first day she went to take them to market, she was just setting off when a herd of hippogriffs stampeded across the road she was traveling and all of her pots were destroyed in her eagerness to escape their dancing hooves. Sitting among the pots, she wept for they were broken beyond reparo and she did not know what to do.

When she arrived home with the few items she could salvage, namely their cart, he was infuriated and refused to believe her misfortune. "What of wild horses that would destroy my pots. Leave off crying, I see very well that you cannot do any ordinary work, so I have been to Lord Smethwyck's castle and have asked that they find you a place as a kitchen maid. And they will take you in exchange for food.

So Lady Bronwyn Prince, head girl of Hogwarts, pureblooded lady, became lower than a house elf to the very wizard she had rejected. She had to be at the cook's beck and call and do the dirtiest work that even the house elves refused to do. In both her pockets she placed little jars in which she was allowed to take home her share of the leavings, and upon this they lived.

During this time, she slowly came to realize she was likely with child, and although she kept it from her husband, she was fearful for her dear little halfblooded to be born. The life of a halfblooded witch or wizard was a hard one, but not quite so hard as a muggleborn. She felt guilty keeping back the larger portion for herself, but surprisingly, her husband never complained with the meager portions of food she brought back from the castle nightly, and while she wished for a warmer fire, or a multitude of warming charm, she took comfort in the fact that her husband gave off enough heat to keep her from freezing overnight.

Now, it happened that the wedding of Lord Smethwyck was to be celebrated, so during the feast, Bronwyn went up and placed herself by the door of the hall to look in on her old friends and classmates in attendance, for she knew a great many of the guests. When all of the candles were lit, and the guests arrived, it was full of the pomp and splendor of pureblood tradition which she was familiar. She thought of her lot with a sad heart, and cursed the pride and haughtiness which had humbled her and brought her to lowly muggle poverty.

The smell of the delicious dishes was enough to make her mouth water, but the small morsels she had in her jars should be saved for her husband who had never tasted such delicacies. Besides, her stomach had rebelled her lately so it was light fare only for her.

All at once, Elwold Smethwyck entered, clothed in velvet and silk with gold chains about his neck. And his eyes spotted her standing by the door, so he seized her hand and would have danced with her, but she refused, pulling back, fearful of being recognized as more than just a beautiful servant. However, her struggles were to no avail, and he drew her into the hall, where she was surely recognized, and where the string, which she held her pockets about her waist broke, and the jars fell to the floor, breaking. The soup and scraps in her pockets fell and when people saw, they laughed at the comical scene. Ashamed, she ran out the door and would have run away, but suddenly a figure apparated in front of her, blocking her escape path. Looking up, she saw her husband, and glancing to the wand in his hand, promptly fainted away.

Upon her revival, she shrank back from the man with her husband's face and figure who was wearing the rich clothes of a gentleman, yet holding a wand in his hand. "Do not be afraid, for I am Elias, who has been living with you in that wretched hovel. For love of you, I disguised myself so, and I also was the one who drove the hippogriffs in front of your cart and smashed the pots. This was all done to humble your pride, and to punish you for the insolence with which you mocked me and the other suitors. His face suddenly morphed to that of Elwold Smethwyck.

She wept bitterly and said. "I may have done great wrong and be unworthy to be your wife, but you are no true hufflepuff!"

"The hat strongly considered me for Slytherin," he laughed. "Be comforted, the evil days are past, and now we will celebrate our wedding." And the house elves arrived to put her in the most splendid clothing, and her father, and all of the wizards and witches she knew came and wished her happiness in her marriage with Elwold Smethwyck.

Eventually, Bronwyn did forgive her husband for his deception, having been in love with him for some time. And their children were among the brightest graduates of their times. And luckily, none of them were metomorphmagi like their father and completely unable to pull such wretched pranks on their mother.


	4. The Six Swans

In 1286, Atwater Weasley, the patriarch of a powerful wizarding family became quite ambitious in his political aims. Deciding he must earn a place on the Wizarding Council, he spent much of his time currying favor with the old political families. He was in the running for a seat, and when one opened up he was approached by the matriarch of an old family, Letha Le Faye who invited him for tea.

Now any witch or wizard worth their salt knows that the Le Fayes were always up to no good, and not a trustworthy bunch, but he said to her. "Can you not get me a seat on the Wizarding Council?"

"Oh certainly, I can quite well do that, but on one condition, which if you do not fulfill, you will never get a seat on the Wizegamot and will be demoted to a lowly secretary."

"What is the condition?" asked the man, practical but ever power hungry.

"I have a daughter," said the old witch, "who is so beautiful, powerful, and pure that she has not her equal in the world and is well suited to be your wife. If you will marry her, I will ensure you gain not only a seat on the Wizegamot, but are chief of it within ten years.

Weasley, in his ambition, consented, and the woman led him to a separate parlor where her daughter Lorica was sitting by the fire. She received the wizard as if she were expecting him. He saw that she was certainly very beautiful, but she did not please him. He could not even look at her without a secret feeling of horror for although she was fair of face, her eyes were cold and deadly.

No sooner than the wedding had been celebrated than Atwater was asked to take his place on the Council, and he was of course quite pleased with himself at the advantageous match.

Atwater had once been married before, and had by his first wife seven children, six boys and one girl, whom he loved more than anything in the world. And now, because he feared that their stepmother might not treat them well or do them harm, he put them in a lonely castle in the middle of one of his estates hidden by enchantments. It lay so well concealed in the forest and it was so hard to find, that he himself could not have found it without an enchanted reel of thread. When he threw it before him, it unwound itself and showed him the way. However, Atwater went so often to his dear children, that Lorica was offended at his absence and grew curious, wanting to know what he had to do quite alone in the woods.

Eventually, she drew it out of the house elves who accidentally betrayed the secret to her and informed her of the little reel which alone could point the way. While her husband was away attending to members of the Wizard's Council, she came to find where the spool of thread was hidden. She then made some little white shirts and sewed a dark enchantment in each of them.

The very next time that Atwater apparated off to the Council, she took the little white shirts and went into the wood where the reel showed her the way to the children. The children, who were home from Hogwarts for the summer, saw someone coming in the distance and thought it was their dear father coming to them. The six boys, who had been playing quidditch sped off on their brooms to meet him.

As they approached, she threw over each one a little shirt, which when it had touched their bodies, changed them into swans. The boys' brooms clattered to the forest floor and the swans flew away over the trees. Lorica went home quite satisfied and thought she had gotten rid of her step-children; but the girl had not flown to meet her with her brothers, so Loricia knew nothing of her.

A short time later, Atwater came to visit his children, but he found no one but his daughter, Garnet.

"Where are your brothers?" asked her father.

"Alas, dear father!" she answered. "They have gone away and left me all alone." And she told him that looking out of her little window, she had seen her brothers flying down the path on their brooms, but then flying over the wood in the shape of swans. She showed him the feathers which they had let fall in the yard and which she had collected. The wizard mourned, but he did not think that his wife had done the wicked deed, but rather a political enemy. In his fear that his dear Garnet would also be taken from him, he wanted to take her with him. But she was afraid of her stepmother, and begged him to let her stay just one more night in the castle in the wood so that she could pack up her things. He enchanted a spacious traveling bag for her with special charms to allow her to fit and organize all of her things and carry them easily on her back.

Garnet was a clever witch, bright for her age. She knew only dark magic could have turned her brothers to swans, and rather than accept their fate and mourn as her father did, she decided she would do something about it. Now at the time, Hogwarts was the preferred mode of education, but many witches and wizards remained self taught due to the isolation of wizarding society. Women in particular, often educated at home due to the patriarchal views that still echo through wizarding society today.

Previously, Garnet had studied as a Gryffindor at Hogwarts, the same house as all of her brothers. Although Allard, Beval, and Cadby had recently graduated Hogwarts and were studying at home and considering creating a family potions business, the younger four siblings had all been at Hogwarts with her. Durriken and Egbert were seventh and sixth years while she and her twin Filbert had been set to start their fifth year in the fall.

Garnet sent a letter to her professors, letting them know that she and her brothers would be continuing their education at home under the supervision of their oldest brothers. After this, she packed her things in an enchanted traveling bag and the fourteen year old witch took off on one of her brother's brooms, a library of magical textbooks stashed in her enchanted traveling bag along with nearly every possession she had.

She flew north, the direction she had seen her brothers go, and eventually as it grew dark, she spotted a little hut in the distance. Upon arrival, she determined it was empty and entered cautiously, finding a room with six beds. She was afraid to lie down on them, so she curled up under them for a short rest, knowing she needed an enclosed place to spend the night for it was to be a full moon.

No sooner had the sun set, than there was a rustling noise as six white swans flew through the window. They landed together and suddenly their feathers fell off of the and before her stood her six red headed brothers, as tall and strong as they day they left her.

"Allard, Bevel, Cadby, Durriken, Egbert, and Filmore!" she cried leaping out from under the beds. "What are you doing here?"

"Garnet!" they cried, and the family reunited joyously.

The brothers quickly explained that she was in grave danger. "You cannot stay here!" they said to her. "This is a den of werewolves, and if they were to come here and find you, they would kill you. They are only gone due to the full moon tonight since they will be out hunting."

"You would protect me!" she asserted, pulling her own wand as well.

"We cannot always protect you though. For we are only human from the time the sun sets to when the last light fades from the sky each day, sometimes no more than a quarter of an hour!" replied Durriken.

"After this, our swan skins engulf us once more, and we must fly away for fear of becoming some werewolf's dinner," added Beval.

Garnet sobbed to hear of her brother's curse, "Is there no way to break the curse?"

"Funny you should ask," laughed Cadby without humor. "The only way for us to be free would be for someone who loves us dearly to reverse the enchantment using an old magic. The conditions are too hard."

Old magics were still studied then at Hogwarts, and Garnet had began taking courses in the ancient magics for the past two years. Although they are now obscure, the ancient magics involved wandless magic, often taking more time and effort than a simple spell, but often more effective.

"Tell me what I must do!" insisted their sister. She was determined.

"The witch father married embroidered shirts for us that lock us into the enchantment. To reverse the curse, someone who loves us would have to knit six shirts out of spun dittany, and not speak or laugh the entire time or all their work would be undone. If a single word passes your lips, all the work would burst into flame. It would take years!" explained Egbert.

"I will do it," averred a determined Garnet.

"No," ordered her twin. "Go back to Hogwarts, find another way. Live your life free and happy for us who cannot!"

"I cannot abandon you, for I love you too dearly," she declared, staring each of her brothers deeply in the eye as the light faded from the sky. Without warning the six brothers transformed instantly into swans and flew out the window. Glancing around the room, the witch selected the smallest bed and opening her little bag put the corner post in the bag. Maneuvering the heavy wooden frame, the determined Garnet finally wiggled it into her bag successfully. Slinging it onto her back, she took her best broom and left the home of the werewolves, deciding that an area where dittany was known to be in abundance was the best place to travel.

Garnet soon found herself in the northeast corner of Wales where dittany is commonly found in the marshes and moorlands. The fourteen year old soon taught herself to use non-verbal magic to start fires, and to do simple spells. She spent her days gathering dittany, stuffing it into bags and spinning the fibers into thread in the evenings while she read or studied. She found a little spring with a few lonely trees around it and very much isolated from society where she chose to live. She set her bag against the tree under a spell that allowed only her to notice it, and every night, she would step into the bag and pull it up around her hips until she landed in the bottom of the bag.

Inside her traveling bag she had made a cozy little space with an area for working on the dittany, an area for studying magic, and a last area for sleeping where she kept her wooden bed and her clothes. In the mornings, she would apparate out of her bag and collect all day.

It took nearly three months for her to collect as much dittany as she could before the frost killed the plant. After that, she rarely ventured out, choosing to remain in her little traveling bag spinning and spinning through the winter. She soon used the branches from a Spruce Tree to carve out a set of magical knitting needles. It took her many tries, and quite a bit of tangled thread, but soon she managed a spell that allowed her to knit magically while she spun.

The young witch sat and spun through the entire winter, and by the end of the winter the first shirt was done, the largest, that for her oldest brother. However, as spring came, the food supply she had taken with her dwindled, and she was forced to find a new source of food.

As she had spun the dittany, a goo, that we now know as the essence of dittany leaked out, and she had begun collecting it after recognizing it had some healing properties. After an accidental splinching, she realized just how potent those properties were, and she was provided with the means to trade for food and make money.

Garnet was soon a recognizable figure in a dark cloak at the corner of Knockturn Alley the four nights before a full moon when she sold small bottles of her healing jelly for a sickle each. Women sent their husbands for it, and men their house elves. The price was never negotiable and the Silent Witch simply took your money and left when the last bottle sold. The silent witch would then appear at the market the next day and buy enough bread, cheese, vegetables, and dried meat to last at least a few weeks and would not be seen until after the next full moon.

Although the Silent Witch was remarked upon for a few days around her appearance, everyone seemed to forget about her shortly after she left. This was convenient for Garnet, and she simply began working on gathering more Dittany.

By her seventeenth birthday, Garnet had grown into a lovely young witch. She was nearly as educated as most witches to graduate Hogwarts, and could certainly have passed NEWTs in most subjects. Additionally, she had finished a second shirt for Beval, and was nearly half done with a shirt for Cadby after only a second winter. Her magical knitting needles flashed and gleamed in the candle light all winter and the results were carefully stowed in a mokeskin pouch.

Now this entire time, Garnet had spoke to no one and had no wish to laugh, for her one true goal was to free her brothers. She focused solely on her work, and so it was unusual when one day, a young wizard was hunting grindylowes in the marshes and came upon her collecting her dittany.

"Who are you?" he called to her, curious as he could clearly tell from her clothes and wand that she was a witch.

But she gave no answer.

He asked in every language he knew, but she remained as silent as a stone. Because she was so beautiful, the wizard's heart was touched, and he was seized with a great love for her. He wrapped her in his cloak, set her on his hippogriff, and brought her to his manor.

There he provided her with beautiful clothes and plentiful food, bringing out her beauty. However, not a single word could be drawn from her lips. He provided a room for her, and invited her to dine with him, and her polite manners and modest behavior pleased him so well, he decided that he would marry her rather than the many pure blooded witches that had been vying for his hand.

Lord Percival Prewitt married Garnet Weasley in the spring of 1289. He called her Amicia, for she had no other name and she was his beloved.

However, Percival had a cold mother, Isolda, who was displeased with the marriage and had desired a more advantageous match with a well known family. The poor mute Amicia was a lousy excuse for a daughter-in-law in her eyes. She spread wicked rumors about the young bride, speculating she was a muggleborn, and unworthy of a pureblooded Lord.

After a year, Garnet, or Amicia as she was called, had her first child, a boy. Isolda took the child and exchanged it with a muggle child, giving the boy to be raised by an old family friend who had recently lost his wife and all of his children. The evil mother-in-law then began moaning that Amicia had produced a squib and Percival should leave her for a pureblooded bride.

Lord Prewitt would not have it, and would not let any harm come to his wife or the child although it did not seem to possess any obvious magical abilities. Now Garnet suspected what had happened, for she could see that the child did not possess the trademark Weasley hair that passes to Weasley children almost invariably and she remembered her babe having red hair at birth. However, she had other things to worry about and knew Isolda would not have hurt Percival's child, so she continued to knit her shirts and say nothing.

By this time she had managed to knit four shirts and was starting on the shirt for her brother Egbert. She soon became with child again, for Weasley women have always been fertile. The second child she had was once again born with a full head of red hair, which shockingly turned blonde the next morning. Once again, Garnet suspected the wicked mother had done the same thing but could not say anything nor shed a tear over her lost child. When his mother soon began bemoaning that his wife had once again produced a squib and was stealing his children's magic for herself, Percival could not make up his mind to believe her. He said, "She is too sweet and good to do such a thing as that. If she were not dumb and could defend herself, her innocence would be proven."

Even when the third child came, and the wicked mother's replacement proved to be non-magical, Percival refused to divorce his wife, infuriating his mother.

Now, they lived in a quaint village made up of wizards and muggles, and the muggles were always highly suspicious of any unusual activity. The blamed all strange occurrences on witches and wizards, and rightly so. Now there was one family, who was quite bothered because the young wife had been pregnant now three times, only to find herself with empty arms and fuzzy head after nine months. She and her husband would happily anticipate a birth, only to find that her belly had deflated and there was no sign or memory of a child when the time came. Now, the wicked witch Isolda had been taking their children as substitutes for her daughter-in-law's magical children to pass them off as squibs. However, a few too many memory charms made the family and friends highly suspicious.

Isolda decided to use this suspicion against her daughter-in-law and began planting seeds of doubt in the minds of the muggles that Amicia had ever been pregnant, for she continued to go out every day gathering her dittany and spinning her twine regardless of rain, shine, or pregnancy. The muggles saw this and suspected that no true lady of the manor would ever toll as Amicia did, especially when heavily pregnant, and decided that her pregnancies had been a ruse. They decided that she was an evil witch who had stolen the children of the young couple and passed them off as her own.

On a day that Lord Percival was away from the manor, a muggle mob rushed the manor and dragged the poor Garnet out of the house, deciding to burn her at the stake.

Now by this time, she had finished five of the shirts for her brothers and was furiously knitting the last sleeve of the final shirt for her brother Filmore even as she was dragged to the stake. She always had the shirts with her in a little moleskin bag, and as the muggles piled wood around her to burn her, she laid them on her arm looking to the skies.

As she stood on the pile and the fire was about to be lighted, six swans flew through the air, and she knew that her release wa at hand and her heart danced for joy. The swans fluttered round her and hovered low so that she could throw the shirts over them, and when they had touched them, the swan-skins fell off, and her six brothers stood before her, living well and handsome. Only the youngest, her twin, had a swan's wing instead of his left arm.

The muggles fell back in terror, as the sister and brother's embraced and kissed each other as Isolda stood by in terror as her son arrived. Percival was greatly astonished as his wife turned to him and began speaking, "Dearest husband, now I can speak and tell you openly that I am innocent and have been falsely accused!" She told him of her heritage and his evil mother's deceit, and how she had taken the three true children away and hidden them.

So the three children were fetched, ironically from Garnet's own father who had been fostering them for his old friend Isolda. And much to the joy of the (once again obliviated) muggles, the three muggle children had been returned to their true parents as if not a day had passed without their presence.

The tale of the Weasley brothers who had been swans was spread far and wide, although the wicked stepmother had long since come to a no good end due to her dabblings in dark magic. And the father was reunited with his sons.

And Garnet lived happily with her husband for many years, patenting the use of dittany in healing and making them very wealthy, much to the displeasure of the sulky and estranged mother-in-law who lived out her remaining years banished from her son's home on the Isle of Man.

And each year, Garnet would knit sweaters for each of her children, passing her magical knitting needles to the woman who married her oldest son, who continued to pass them along as a sign of good will between daughter and mother-in-law through the generations.

Prewitt children are famous for having the warmest wool sweaters at Hogwarts, knitted by their mothers from the wool of the sheep the family raises. It is also rumored that these sweaters have healing powers imbued by the needles from which they are knit; the same needles that once knit together twine made of dittany which left residue on the wood, giving the needles further magical properties.

* * *

 _"Oh my Merlin," gasped Rose. "This story has to be true! My grand-mother posses those knitting needles. She even lets Auntie Fleur use them on occasion, but never anyone else. She always says they are to be Auntie Fleur's who can pass them on to Louis's wife!"_

 _"Well, Molly Weasley was a Prewitt… ironic that she, one of the last of the Prewitt's would marry a Weasley and have seven children, six boys and a girl, just like the tale. It's funny how history tends to repeat itself, even hundreds of years later," laughed Narcissa. "Speaking of your Aunt Fleur, here's a story you might not know."_

 **Hope you enjoyed this version of the six swans! Let me know what you thought! Thanks for reading and reviewing! E.A.**


	5. The Phoenix Maiden

**Surprise! I'm finally updating this too! Please enjoy and let me know what you thought!**

 _ **The Phoenix Maiden**_

Once upon a time, long before the dark ages, there was a young wizard Steinar who lived in Norway. His family were Vikings, raiding the north seas, and they were powerful witches and wizards as well. Now, there was a rival wizarding clan that were also Vikings, and when the wizard was no longer a boy, but not quite a man, his family raided a muggle stronghold that was under the protection of the rival clan.

Now the mother of the rival clan was a very powerful witch who had traveled far and wide to gain her magical knowledge. Using an unknown dark magic that has never been heard of since and still remains a mystery lost to the dark ages, she transformed the wizard Steinar into a white dragon.

Now the curse was unique in that Steinar could still perform magic, and had his human wits about him while in the form of a dragon, but no amount of magic could undo the curse. Steinar was human only on the longest day of the year and the longest night of the year at midwinter. He would take his human form only for those hours, and in those hours only would he age as a normal human and not as a dragon.

After years of keeping him with them, and Steinar eating more sheep than their family could spare, they were forced to send him on his way. His mother and father had grown old and died and his siblings were aging as well, but Steinar remained as young as ever. Even the witch who had cast the spell was long dead, but the curse remained.

Using magic, he began stealing sheep and created a herd of them in a northern valley so that he could eventually raise his own food source.

He also began collecting treasure, and he soon had a wondrous cave looking down on his green valley where he raised his sheep. Now, legends began to circulate of the dragon wizard with a great treasure hoard hidden in a northern valley, but although wizards and muggles alike searched for the dragon and his treasure, none could find it.

One day, after more than a hundred years had passed, a young witch named Svanhild, stumbled upon the valley as she was picking herbs for a potion. The valley was so green and beautiful, she could not resist exploring, and she soon stumbled upon the cave, where a startled Steinar was busy making a potion he hoped would grow his sheep larger and more nutritious. He spent quite a lot of his time doing magical research which was made difficult by unwieldy claws and the need to do everything magically.

The girl was frightened, but recognized the potion, so she asked the wizard what he was doing.

Shocked that she would try and communicate with him, Steinar explained the experimental potion in a booming voice that rang through the room magically but did not come from his mouth.

When the girl heard his voice, she immediately knew he was a wizard, and decided to befriend him. Soon, she was traveling to the valley daily to work on potions with Steinar and collaborate on magical theories, or even just share an evening. For the first time in a hundred years, Steinar had a friend.

When the midsummer arrived, Steinar took his human form, and Svanhild instantly fell in love with the handsome golden haired man who was her dragon. Determined to break the curse, she spent a full year with Steinar, trying to find a solution. By the second midwinter the couple spent together, Svanhild was worried that there would never be a reversal to the curse. Her parents were encouraging her to marry as she was a grown woman, and quite beautiful. They hoped to make a strong alliance with another family.

Svanhild had began researching for an alternative to changing Steinar, because if he could not be a human with her, she would find a way to be with him. On her twenty second birthday, Svanhild became an animagus, taking on the rare and dangerously difficult form of a phoenix. As a phoenix, she too could remain nearly as ageless as Steinar due to the fact that phoenixes are constantly in a cycle of resurrection. And so she decided to only take on her human form when absolutely necessary or when Steinar was human, and the two became proficient at speaking to each other telepathically and were never as happy as when they were together in their beautiful warm cave.

The first time that Steinar took on his human form after she became an animagus, they went to a nearby village and were married there. They had already been living together for some time and her family believed she had run off, so it was a small ceremony, just the two of them and every midsummer they would be spending their anniversary together.

It wasn't long after midsummer that Svanhild the phoenix produced a large golden egg. When it hatched nine months later, Svanhild had produced a golden phoenix. Now not long after, it was again midsummer, and the couple produced another child in the same way. And within seven years, the couple had seven daughters.

Now, when the oldest saw her parents transform into humans, she soon learned to throw off her phoenix feather cloak which she had been born and display her human form which was so beautiful and perfect, her parents were amazed. And each time their children learned to shed their phoenix skin, they seemed more beautiful than the last, all so beautiful they nearly made your eyes hurt to look at them with golden hair and hypnotizing blue eyes and skin as fair and glowing as the moon.

Soon each of the daughters had grown to be young maidens, and they enjoyed putting on their phoenix skins and flying about together when their parents became too boring and worked too long on their potions and magical theory. The girls were all witches, each with a wand made of the phoenix feather from one of her sisters that their father had crafted.

It happened that one night a wizard was in the forest gathering herbs that only bloom with a waxing moon. He was near a small pond when he heard the whirring of wings and looking to the skies, saw seven golden phoenixes descending from the heavens. He watched them land on the lake in the moonlight and thought to himself that if he could only have a single feather he would be a rich man.

Just as he thought this, he watched the phoenixes throw off their feather robes and transform into the most beautiful women he had ever seen. He was transfixed as they shed their robes and dove in the water, swimming and laughing, their golden hair reflecting the moonlight.

Coming to his senses while they swam at the far edge of the pond and their laughter a mere echo, he crept to the bank and took one of the phoenix feather robes, stuffing it into the mokeskin pouch he had been using to gather herbs.

After the phoenix maidens had bathed and frolicked to their heart's delight, they came back to the bank, wishing to put on their feather robes again. While the six eldest found theirs, the youngest could not. They searched and searched until at last dawn appeared and the six sisters decided to hurry home to see what their mother and father advised. They donned their robes and flew away, leaving the youngest on a rock sobbing.

When the wizard saw them leave, he approached the youngest, offering his robe. She knew immediately that he had taken hers, and begged to have it back, but he would not take it out of the mokeskin pouch. Even when she sobbed her most prettily and used her most alluring voice, he simply stared transfixed, too numbed by her beauty to obey her command to return her plumage. He knew that the second she had her feathers she would fly away from him, and he vowed to take her home and marry her. He would give her anything in the world but the thing that would take her away from him.

So he took Freydis to his house where she married him, and he hid her feathered robe where she could not find it. They soon had two beautiful daughters, each as beautiful as their mother, and a fine son that looked almost exactly like him. And their mother loved them with all her heart.

Now during this time, Freydis learned that some of her phoenix traits came out when she was angry or sad, her nose becoming like her phoenix beak, her fingernails like claws, fire thrown from her palms, but no matter how she tried, she could not force feathers or wings to sprout.

One day, her little daughter was playing hide and seek with her brother, and she went being the wainscoating to hide herself and found the robe all made of feathers which she showed to her mother. As soon as she saw it, Freydis put it on and said to her daughter, "Tell father that if he wishes to see me again, he must find me in the valley where the dragon wizard raises sheep and keeps his treasure trove." And with that she flew away.

When the wizard came home that night, his little daughter told him what had happened and what her mother had said. So he set out to find his wife, seeking the legendary dragon and his cave of treasures. And he wandered for many days until he came across an old man who had fallen on the ground, and he lifted him up and helped him to a seat and tended him until he felt better.

The old man was a wizard, and asked him what he was doing and where he was going, so he told him all about the phoenix maidens and his wife, and he asked the old man if he had heard of the dragon wizard and his cave of treasure. Unfortunately, many years had passed since the stories of Steinar had provoked men to seek his dragon trove, and the old man knew nothing.

So the wizard went on, until he came upon a centaur, who was wounded from an arrow in his flank. Using his wand to help the centaur, he asked the wise seer if he knew where he could find the valley where the dragon wizard lived. "I have heard of the valley where a dragon raises his own sheep for food and where he keeps a great treasure, but I know not where it is or how to get there save that it is in the far northern mountains," replied the centaur, grateful for the help.

So the wizard thanked the centaur and went to the northern mountains, and as he got near there, he found two wizards quarrelling. When he came upon them, they asked him to settle their dispute.

"Our father has just died, and he has left but two things. This cap, which whenever you wear it, nobody can see you; and these shoes, which will carry you through the air to whatever place you will. Now, I being the elder claim the right of choice as to which of these two I shall have, but he declares that as the younger, he has the right to the shoes. Which do you think is right?"

So the wizard, being quite cunning, thought for a moment, and at last he said, "It is difficult to decide, but the best thing I can think of is for you to race from here to that stream and whoever gets back to me first with a cup of water, I will hand him either the shoes or the cap, whichever he wishes." And the wizard produced two little cups to the brothers.

Then he took the shoes in one hand and the cap in the other and waited until they had started off running toward the stream, and as soon as they had run a ways, he put on the shoes of swiftness and placed the invisible cap on his head, and willed himself into the valley of the dragon wizard. And he flew, and flew until at least he came to the valley which was full of sheep, and at the head of the valley was the cave entrance which was fashioned almost like a castle, and housed the dragon and his treasure.

Now it happened that the day he arrived was midsummer, and the family had been together in the fields. But when Steinar sensed another presence in his valley, he appeared before the wizard. Even though he was invisible, Steinar could sense exactly where he stood and addressed the man.

"Who are you and why have you come to this valley."

"I have come to seek my wife," answered the wizard.

"And who is she?" asked Steinar.

"She is the youngest daughter of the dragon wizard who lives here," answered the husband, and explained how he had won his wife.

Then Steinar said, "I am the dragon wizard, and you have come to us on the day that is not only my wedding anniversary, but the only day I am my most true form. Come, if you can tell her from her sisters, then I know that what you say is true." And he summoned his seven daughters and his wife to him, and each daughter came just as beautiful as the last, nearly completely identical.

So the wizard said, "If I may take each of them by the hand, I will surely know my wife." Because when she had lived with him, she had burned her hand on a hot cauldron, and the skin had healed roughly on the side of her palm.

And when he had taken the hand of each of the phoenix maidens, he soon found which was his wife, and claimed her for his own. Steinar gave them great gifts and sent them home to their children, and they promised to return for midwinter so they could meet their grandfather.

The family lived for many years, and Freydis learned to shed her phoenix feather robes inside, rather than out where it could be stolen so she could transform at will, so when her daughters came to pull their own robes from within themselves, she was not surprised that they too possessed the ability to take on a golden phoenix form.

Eventually each of the phoenix maidens would marry and go on to have children. Those that remained mostly in their phoenix forms laid eggs, that produced full blooded daughters like their mothers, more phoenix than human at times. Those that stayed in their human forms and gave birth to their children produced both sons and daughters, but the daughters were inhumanly beautiful, and possessed special magical abilities and traits. The daughters that came from eggs were soon called Veelas, while those that came from human births were considered part-veelas or half-blooded.

In 1437, veelas were classified as a magical creature, while half-blooded veelas were considered to have the rights of a witch in society. This nuance led to many a family rift, and a prejudice toward veelas as inhuman and innately animalistic creatures while they are merely the result of a cursed pureblood wizard and an animagus pureblood witch. Thus veelas are considered to be pure-blooded wizarding lines.

It is also important to note that Steinar and Svenhild Veelar still reside in the northern mountains of Scandinavia today, and many of their relatives still join them for their midwinter ball, and or their annual summer picnic. While they are hundreds and hundreds of years old, they appear in their late thirties. Their contributions to magical knowledge continue today, most of their work consisting of magical theory and spell weaving algorithms used by the department of transportation for the floo networks.

* * *

"I can't believe we didn't learn this in history of magic or care of magical creatures class at Hogwarts!" exclaimed Rose. "This is completely fascinating! I wonder if Victoire and Dom know this?"

"Many veela families pass down this lore, but who knows. You are always welcome to share the book with your family. Are you able to stay awake for another? The next page revealed one of my favorites."

"Of course," laughed Rose, her tears seemingly forgotten.

 **I know it's been forever since I posted to this fic. I've been focusing on some other things. I will try and update again soon, but no promises. Please review and let me know what you think! Would love for more ideas, I know I need to write more for this fic! What tale should I do next? E.A.**


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